Of Angels and Demons
by WetPaperTowel
Summary: When Castiel becomes desperate to win the civil war, he makes a deal with Crowley. However, Crowley tricks Castiel and adds his own details into the deal in order for him to rob the angel of his virginity. Signs of Cass/Dean. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1: A Demon's Intentions

WHY, HELLO. So yeah, this is my first Supernatural fanfic, so here's to hoping the first chapter turns out alright. I've been pretty excited to write about it all day today. I don't plan on making a big story out of it, just making it into a few (SEXY) chapters. Yayayayayayayayayyaa! This chapter will be lots of talking, but it's setting up for the ending.

Story Description: This story takes place during the angel civil war. Castiel becomes desperate to win, even if it means selling his soul (or whatever he has left) to the crossroads demon himself. However, one of them adds a dangerous detail into the finer print.

**WARNING****: I seriously plan on making an explicit man on man action scene in the near future; I don't think we see enough hardcore sexy time going on. Soooo if you're squeamish about man on man action, then don't bother reading. Like fur real, hardcore sexy time. Yeah you get it. I wonder if Misha Collins and gang will stumble upon this…awwwkwaaard.**

Sam flipped through yet another page of the dusty old book, his eyes furiously scanned each page for what he needed. The pages were nearly falling off the old thing, and if they did, they landed right in the garbage. Sam and Dean had no time to waste putting it back together. Sam was seated at Bobby's desk, a half empty glass of rum near his hand in case of emergency.

"How do we even know this will work?" Dean asked casually, expecting a half ass answer. He was becoming increasingly irritated. He stood over his little brother's shoulders, arms folded across his chest. The two of them had been searching for a way to summon Michael from the depths of hell: they were only trying to save their half-brother, really. Michael himself gave them little to no interest.

"We don't, Dean." Sam replied quickly. Just as Dean guessed: A half assed answer. Sam took a gulp of his 'emergency' drink and set it back in the same spot. "But anything is worth a shot. He's our family."

"Yeah." He almost sounded sarcastic.

"Yeah?" Sam repeated as he twisted his body to glance back at Dean, his eyebrows furrowed. He won't stand for his pessimistic attitude all of a sudden, especially after all the research they've gone through. "We're the reason he's in this mess. Or did you forget all of that?"

"Look," Dean opened his arms in a gesture, "all I'm saying is that I think we're playing with the wrong league. I mean, what are the chances we'll actually find a summoning spell for that kind of thing? We've been at it for a week, give it a break already. We have other work to do."

"Right, other work." Sam gave a fake smile to his brother. "Sleeping with hookers and drinking yourself into oblivion doesn't count as work."

"First off, they're not _hookers_. I don't pay for them." Dean said in his own defense.

"But you pay for their drinks, and in exchange, you expect something."

"Shut up. Get your nose back in that book."

"I'm just saying."

"Well no one asked for your opinion." Dean finished it. Ah, brotherly love. "And if you keep messing around, we're never going to find-"

"Right here!" Sam interrupted with excitement, pressing a finger to a middle page.

"What?" Dean, suddenly intrigued, forced his way in, now hovering over the book himself.

"Here. Apparently we can summon his soul back, just not his physical state." He paused before continuing, "Why don't we just ask Cass for help?"

"Forget it. Feather-ass is too busy for us right now. Either we take this into our own hands or it doesn't happen at all." It was apparent that the mere reminder of Cass made him tense. Dean of course understands the importance of the war, but would it really kill the A-hole to fly down and help them really quick? "Is there anything else on it?" His eyes scanned the pages, but he couldn't process the information as fast as Sam could. What a nerdy little genius his brother was.

Sam peeked at the next page, which proved to be nothing useful to them. He shook his head, peering up at his brother, as if he might have a better solution. "What good is a soul without anywhere for it to go." It was more of a statement rather than a question.

"We'll find someone else." His voice rose before Sam could butt in. "I'm talking we can find someone who just recently passed away and, well, use their body for a while."

There was nothing but silence.

"Then we'd need a transferring spell." Sam responded as-matter-of-factly. He set his head against the book, groaning as his head came in contact with the vintage papers. He could practically smell the age of the ink from these pages.

More silence.

"Well, then, God damn it." Dean shouted, throwing an arm up in the air. He pushed Sam's head off the book as he squinted to read the small printed ingredients. He set his eyes on a peculiar one, one that stood out from the rest. "How the hell do we obtain an essence of an angel's innocence anyways? The hell does that mean? Is it an _object?"_

Sam lifted his head, his bangs raffled and out of place. He was far too tired to care about one of his best features, especially with only his brother around. He could only offer a shrug in response.

Dean continued, "Apparently it needs to be obtained before God's eyes. This riddle is getting ridiculous." Dean slammed his hand on the book, looking around the room as he shook his head.

"Oh thank God, I thought you'd never get around to saying the bloody thing."

Dean and Sam both whipped their heads at the source of the voice. Sam nearly shot up from his chair from the sudden intrusion; it was more startling than anything. They met their gaze with Crowley, the infamous crossroads demon. The demon stepped from underneath the doorway, his hands casually resting in his pockets. He gave them a shy shrug before adding, "You have no idea how bored I was listening to you two yap."

"In case you demons aren't aware, you can't just 'zap' in whenever you please. Use the damn door; we have it for a reason." Dead snapped back at him. The boys were used to angels and demons popping in at random moments, but Crowley was a different a story. He only brought bad news to the table.

Crowley pressed his lips together in a tight line, taking a few steps closer to the boys, yet keeping a safe distance. "Jeez, touchy. You boys aren't glad to see me?" His brows rose as he spoke and his question almost sounded sincere.

"Cut to the chase. What do you mean you were listening to us? For what reason?" Dean asked suspiciously, afraid he already knew the answer.

"The ingredients, you numbskull. It's the _ingredients_. You see," With a swipe of his hand, he closed the book from across the room, sending particles of dust flying, "demons can't look into a sort of book like that. No, not when it's branded by angels. So I just waited for a couple of intelligent humans (he may have exaggerated at this point) to read it out loud. Think of it as if you were just telling me a bedtime story."

"You planted the book for us?" Sam ignored his superiority complexed attitude.

"Aren't I clever? Thank you two, though, I sincerely mean it. You've helped me a lot."

The brothers took a few seconds to glance at each other, baffled that neither of them saw this coming. They were always a step ahead of the game. Dean decided to break the silence. "Who says we're going to finish reading off the instructions?"

"You bloody idiot, I know how to do it, I just couldn't remember the last ingredient." Crowley took this time to examine a picture on the wall, one with Bobby, Sam and Dean on some sort of fishing trip. He reached over and fixed the frame to make it even on the wall, almost as if to accommodate for using them in this fashion.

Dean leaned himself against the desk, keeping a careful eye on Crowley. They've already lost the game; he just needs to find a way to twist it back around. "So you won, big deal." He played it off cool. "Where do you expect to find an essence of an angel's innocence, anyways?" He could feel Sam giving him a strange look. They both knew Dean didn't know what the hell he was talking about.

Crowley took the bait. "Just as you would normally take away someone's innocence. Think about it." He raised a finger into the air in front of his face before continuing. "Except I need an angel's."

The brothers knew all too much of the evil in this world to completely understand what Crowley was talking about. They wouldn't guess Crowley would stoop so low, but he is a demon, after all.

"So you need a virgin angel?" Sam thought out loud.

"Correct!"

"Well I'm sure there are plenty of horny, angelic women up in heaven. Go get 'em, tiger." Dean couldn't help but break out a bit of sarcasm.

"Bollocks. I don't necessarily swing that way, boys." The brothers didn't act surprised. The demon forces men to kiss him to seal a deal, anyways. "Hey." He took a few steps closer to Dean, his voice softer now than ever. "Isn't your friend Castiel still around?"

A fiery rage built up quickly within Dean, faster than an adrenaline rush. He could feel his own face becoming hotter as he reached out and grabbed Crowley by the scruff of his shirt, pulling him in. His voice was loud with anger, and he spoke in the most threatening tone he could muster. "You touch a single feather on Cass and I swear I'll-"

Then, Crowley was gone, he simply just vanished. Sam and Dean looked around the room for him.

"_Crowley!"_

"You see, it needs to be taken from an angel on earth. And Castiel is incredibly weak from this war. Not to mention the guy's desperate to win." Crowley reappeared in the corner of the room, behind the boys. He was only there for a few seconds before he had to leave again. Dean threw the book at him, sending papers flying through the air.

Crowley appeared in the kitchen, but he spoke loudly so the boys could hear him, "And it needs to be done in a church." He continued as he opened the fridge, peeking around for something to eat. "My oh my, how much I wouldn't mind for Castiel. I can see why you're friends with him. So handsome, so loyal and _obedient-"_

This time it was Sam who threw something at the demon, except he probably shouldn't have. He picked up the nearest object, which was the nearly empty glass of rum, and whipped it at Crowley. He only managed to hit the fridge, which sent the glass shattering into hundreds of pieces all over the floor.

"Come on, Sam! Who's going to clean that up? Seriously?" Dean yelled at him, his rage still burning within.

Sam didn't know what to say, he stammered a bit. He couldn't even manage to say that he was trying to help. The boys looked around the room, still, no Crowley. Dean checked back in the study room and still found nothing.

"What do we do, now?" Sam asked quietly, as if hoping to somehow calm down his brother. "Dean?" Dean didn't seem to hear him, or he did and he chose to ignore him. Dean ran his fingers through his hair in a frustrating gesture, not making eye contact with Sam.

"Dean." Sam repeated with a louder and quicker tone as he grabbed Dean's shoulder, twisting the older man around to face him. He meant to snap him back to reality.

"We find Cass." Dean started before making a slight pause, "And we find a way to keep him here, with us."

**Review? Thoughts? Opinioooons? Please and thank you…!**


	2. Chapter 2: A Kiss to Seal the Deal

So I'm all caught up with Supernatural, I just finished watching the 4th episode of the 7th season. To avoid accidental spoilers, I'm just going to say that YOU-KNOW-WHO better NOT be dead! Or I'll throw a fan girl tantrum, send threat letters to the writers and fuck shit up.

That is all. Read and enjoy :D

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><p>"Castiel, wherever you are, we need to talk to you. It's important, Cass, really important. This can't wait. We just want to talk to you, 10 seconds at most. Then you can get back to your war and whatnot." After Dean finished his prayer, he opened one eye to peek around the room. "Come on you son of a bitch, stop ignoring us already!"<p>

Sam looked behind him to see if the angel had popped up, but there was no sign of anything. It was becoming rare for the angel to make an appearance, even when the boys pray for him. Most often they would lose faith that he would even show up, but this time was different. They didn't need Castiel for his help, they need to help _him._

"What if Crowley got to him first?" Sam asked, seating himself on a chair backwards. He rested his arms over the back of the chair, and then rested his chin on his arms. He looked up at Dean with his head tilted slightly down, giving his brother his signature puppy dog look.

"Don't you say that." Dean snapped in a threatening voice. "We're either not trying hard enough or Cass is in the middle of something big." '_Or he doesn't want to see us.'_ He continued that last part in his head. It was the unlikely truth that he would be afraid to realize, but he would never show Sam how insecure he was about his friend.

"You're just not doing it right. Let me try. This worked last time." Sam cleared his throat and straightened his back, which gained Dean's attention. What the hell was he preparing for? "Castiel, help me! It's Dean, he's dead…" His voice acting was phenomenal. He was even ready to fake cry. "Balthazar came and went berserk, he just killed him so fast-"

And there he was. The sound of fluttering wings passed by and stopped next to them in the same room. Castiel made his first appearance in nearly a month, and what a grand entrance he made. He stumbled through some chairs, knocking over a small end table with a few picture frames on it. Everything came crashing to the floor, he was in such a hurry to get there he wasn't paying attention to where he landed.

"Sam." Castiel spoke with urgency. He was out of breath, and a bloody nose complimented a cut over his left eye. "Where's Dean? What happened?"

Sam furrowed his eyebrows at the angel, giving him a look of disbelief. "Oh, well uh…wow. I didn't think you would really fall for that." He's tricked him before, but he was sure Castiel learned his lesson. He truly was an innocent little angel.

"Cass." Dean stood up, now facing the angel. When Cass looked back at him, they both shared somewhat confused expressions. "I don't know if I'm more shocked to see that you actually came, or that you look like you got out of a fight with Tyson."

"I don't understand your reference. But I see that you're not dead." Cass admitted he was wrongfully called. There's no way of hiding how scared he was when he heard Dean had died. He can't always bring him back from the dead. "And you tricked me."

"Me? No, I didn't. Sam did." He ignored Sam giving him a hard stare. "I'm flattered by the way, that you would make an exception if I died." He added with sarcasm.

Castiel was stumped, but this conversation allowed him to catch his breath from the battle. "Just…what do you need?"

"Nice to see you, too. Look, you're going to have to stay here for a bit. My orders."

"I don't understand." Castiel stepped closer to him. "You summoned me out of my war to ask for me to stay here?" There was something visibly wrong with Castiel. He was leaning against the chair, almost as if he didn't have the strength to stand on his own.

"No." Dean said it more like a question. He looked at Sam for help.

"We, uh, just wanted to help you relax so that you can go back into war fully charged." Sam's lie wasn't so convincing, and Castiel can see right through it.

"You forget that I can see through you." Castiel's voice was low and harsh, but he managed to finish his sentence before seating himself in the chair that he was leaning on.

"Look at you." Dean said, leaning closer to him. "You can't even stand up."

Castiel waved his hand, as if dismissing the situation. "I'm fine, really. I am. I'm just…" He struggled to find the right word, "tired."

"You forget that we can see through you." Dean replied.

Castiel gave him an 'okay, you got me' look, and then turned his head, staring at nothing in particular. The angel closed his eyes, looking as though he might be resting. His eyes were then suddenly shut tight, and his expression was distressed. He looked like he was pooping.

"Dude. You okay?" Sam asked, giving Dean a glance to see if he noticed.

"Someone's trying to contact me." Castiel kept his eyes closed through sheer concentration.

"Crowley." Dean said.

"Yes." Castiel took it as a question.

"Since when do you talk to demons? Cut him off."

"Sam, Dean…the war. It's-"

He felt a hand on his shoulder, but took it more as a comforting motion since he figured the hand belonged to Sam. He looked over his shoulder to find that he needn't look up so high. His eyes met with a shorter man with black hair, someone he's quite familiar with by now. The crossroads demon appeared directly in between Sam and Castiel, his posture as perfect and straight as ever.

"''ello, mate." Crowley said charismatically. "Nice to see you all again."

"No one invited you here; get your ass back to England." Dean rose from the chair he was sitting in, feeling brave enough to fight the demon off if it became necessary. He has a snowball's chance in hell of winning without some sort of trapping spell, but a snowball is still a chance.

"You really think I'm English?" He laughed. He never took his hand off Castiel's shoulder, which made the situation awkward. "Buggar off, boys. Cass and I have business to take care of."

Castiel stood onto his feet with difficulty, his eyes leaving Crowley only a second to look at his friends. "I don't have any busin-" He was gone before he could finish his statement. Crowley was missing as well, leaving just Sam and Dean in the room to themselves. It happened so fast, the boys could barely register that they left at all.

"Damn it!" Dean kicked at the ground where Crowley just stood. He wasn't even given a chance to fight. Had he known Crowley was able to zap other people like Cass can, he would've tackled the man right there.

"Well that went smoothly." Sam chimed in.

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><p>A warehouse? How classy of Crowley to take them to take them to a place that offered nearly no light and smelled like horse ass. He never took Crowley's presence as a threat; he could easily one up the demon in a second. However, that's exactly why they're here. If Crowley can't make this deal happen, then he doesn't receive his precious angel's innocence.<p>

Castiel groaned, disapproving of the location. "I see you've lowered your living standards."

"Since when did you grow a sense of humor?" Crowley was almost impressed.

"What do you need?" The angel responded quickly, wanting nothing more than to get back to his war. With the back of his hand, he wiped the blood off the cut over his left eye, cleaning the area.

"Okay, then let's cut to the chase. You have a war to win, you need souls; I'm a deal maker, and I happen to have plenty of souls on the market. I'm here to make a deal."

Castiel turned to look at him. If he could grow that sense of humor back, he'd start laughing. "No thanks."

"60,000."

"What?"

"60,000 souls."

This offer intrigued Castiel, giving Crowley all the attention he needed. 60,000 would be more than enough to defeat Raphael, but at what cost? Castiel was ready to go back in time and save the Titanic just to get that amount- no, less.

He squinted his eyes at him, giving him a suspicious look. "Not for free, I'm assuming." He swayed from side to side. His eyes voluntarily looked around for some sort of support beam within reach.

"60,000 souls on the account that you simply reserve me a spot as Lucifer's replacement when you win, O' leader."

The offer seemed nearly too good on his half. Even if Castiel won the war and achieved some sort of place as God's right hand man, he could easily banish Crowley from his position. Castiel couldn't sense the trap even if it were slapping him in the face. He could feel his own energy draining, lusting for more power. He needed to win this war in order to preserve peace in Heaven. If everyone was counting on him, that made him a leader. Leaders must make sacrifices, right?

Castiel walked to the nearest beam, leaning his back against it. He couldn't stand on his own. He'd die without those souls.

"Alright." He spoke with hesitation. His voice was barely audible, the whisper barely passed through his soft lips.

"Say again?"

"Alright, I'll take your deal." Castiel seemed displeased.

"You know how to seal the deal, doll."

Castiel shifted uncomfortably. He avoided eye contact with Crowley. It wasn't so much of the thought of their lips touching that made him uncomfortable, it's just the fact that he's about to make a deal with him period.

Crowley approached him, impatiently waiting for Castiel to unknowingly hand over his innocence. He stood merely a couple inches from the angel, their height similarity making his next move easy. He grabbed Castiel's jaw with one strong hand, forcing the angel to turn his head so their eyes could meet.

Castiel put a hand on Crowley's wrist, putting little effort into shoving him away. Crowley leaned in for the kiss, his lips eager to make contact with the other man. He always had some sort of thing for Castiel, but he knew he could never get the angel to give in. Not willingly.

Their lips gently grazed before Castiel turned his head slightly, only to have Crowley's hand forcefully hold his pretty little face still. Crowley pressed his lips against Castiel's, giving the angel an innocent peck. He went in again, surprising Castiel with a tongue, which made the angel step back against the beam until he couldn't back away anymore. Castiel gave in little to no effort to welcoming the kiss or giving back; he had no interest in Crowley.

Crowley stepped back, keeping his eyes on his new playmate. "You could really use the practice."

Castiel wiped his lips with the back of his hand, avoiding eye contact. This situation couldn't possibly become more awkward. "Am I that bad?" He felt self-conscious.

"You're fine." He lied.

Castiel gave him a series of small, quick nods. He wasn't embarrassed to ask how his performance was, he was curious. He could always just say he wasn't trying. Without saying a good-bye, the angel disappeared, leaving Crowley to himself in the warehouse. He often left a scene in the middle of something. Crowley sighed dramatically in annoyance, where did that boy think he was going?

With a snap of his fingers, Castiel was back. It took the angel a second to register that he was summoned by Crowley,_ Crowley_ of all people. A demon like him had no right- or the power- to summon him without being there physically. Castiel looked around the room in disbelief that he was back at the warehouse. He gave the demon his full attention.

"You didn't even give me a good night hug." Crowley said casually.

"How did you do that?"

"You did just hand over your controls to me, you know."

Castiel stared at him blankly. He felt a dropping sensation in his stomach, one he often felt with fear or anxiety. Or when he knows he's done something wrong. "What did you do to our agreement?" His voice was deep yet powerful.

"Sheesh you people don't read the terms and agreement pages anymore, do you? Impatient youngins, you're so quick to accept those things without noticing the finer details."

Within a blink of the eye, Castiel was up against Crowley, his cold blue eyes sending chills down the demon's spine. "Tell me what you did." He spoke through gritted teeth.

"Better yet. I'll show you. Take a few steps back, your aggressive nature is killing my good mood."

Castiel obeyed, stepping back only three times. Just as Crowley told him to. He could feel his body moving on its own, as is he no longer had control over his own vessel. Castiel was dumbstruck. No matter how hard he fought to resist this movement, his brain was numb in those areas. He couldn't even think of moving his own limbs.

This brought Crowley much amusement; you could practically see the glow on his face.

"If you're happy and you know it." He chimed in with the song, taking a short pause so that his command could be clear. He balled his fists and extended his pointer fingers, swinging them in the air as if conducting a choir. "Clap your hands."

Castiel involuntarily clapped his hands in a rapid motion, which startled the young angel. He took a step back, fighting himself to stop. He could feel the sense of panic rushing through him, that helpless feeling where the situation is out of your control.

"Good boy. If you're happy-"

"Stop this!" Castiel held his anxiety. "What is so bad that you couldn't have asked me?"

"Please. You wouldn't even give your virginity to a darling young lady. You're so terribly prude."

Castiel was a deer in headlights. How the hell did Crowley know that, anyways? Pervert. Castiel didn't care to ask how or why. But Crowley could practically read his thoughts.

"I need that essence of an angel's innocence, and you're going to give it to me."

"Says who?" Castiel disappeared, only leaving behind a whistle of his swift wings. Crowley smiled. As much as he appreciates this game of cat and mouse, hasn't Castiel already tried to run? The crossroads demon opened his mouth to summon the angel back, but found it unnecessary. He could feel the angel behind him, heavy breathing pounding against the back of his neck.

He turned around on the heel of his boots, his face meeting a cold, hard fist. The hit sent him crashing onto the dirty concrete floor. Crowley looked up at Castiel through glaring eyes, sitting himself up with his hands. "Sto-" Castiel was too quick.

He slammed another fist down at him, and another, and another. The series of impacts left Crowley limp and bloody. His knuckles were tinted with blood. Castiel could have kept going if he had the strength, but he was just so tired. He felt as though he had the wind knocked out of himself, it was impossible to throw another punch. Crowley laid there, dazed and confused. He seemed to have fallen under a minor unconscious state, which gave Castiel plenty of time to give the boys a visit.

He just hoped he had enough time.

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><p>Wherever the boys were, Castiel was. He appeared inside a confined, steamy hotel bathroom. The shower was running and he could see a figure through the curtains. Excusing himself of any courtesies, he reached over and whipped the curtain to the side, exposing a completely nude, screaming Dean.<p>

"Holy shit!" He caught his breath. He won't admit he was scared out of his mind. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Dean." Castiel's eyes were half open. He could feel himself falling. He reached out for support, but his hands found Dean's flesh. He fell into him, the pouring water soaking him and his trench coat instantly.

"Help me." He spoke in the faintest whisper. "Crowley…"

Dean caught him with difficulty as he nearly lost his footing on the soapy floor. It was hard to tell if Dean was more annoyed or worried that his friend would be so desperate that he couldn't wait til he put some clothes on.

"Aw man. Why me?"

Sam could hear scrambling and shouting from the bathroom. He knocked gently on the door. "Uh, Dean?"

The door flew open, revealing a half-naked Dean and a drenched Cass who had an arm draped over Dean's shoulder for support. Cass kept his head down, and Dean kept his towel up.

"Sam, draw that trap for Crowley, now." He spoke with urgency, not allowing his brother a second to ask questions. "_Now_, Sam!"

"Yeah." Sam rushed to find the chalk they needed, scrambling through their bags.

Dean set Castiel down onto his bed, laying the angel to rest.

"No." Castiel whispered through nearly closed lips.

"No, what?"

"The trap. It won't work." Dean didn't respond, he figured he was waiting for Castiel to continue with the reason. "He can summon me."

"Then what are we supposed to do? There's a reason why you came here, right?"

Castiel almost smiled. Here he thought he was the innocent one. There was always a reason he came back to the boys; well really, back to Dean. The angel reached up to touch Dean's face, but he was gone before they could make contact. Dean blinked, and even in that incredibly small moment of blackness, he didn't see him leave. Dean looked around the room with suspicious eyes, scanning for any sign of Castiel.

"Cass?"

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Thoughts? Opinions? Onions? Review? Mmmmyessssss<strong>


	3. Chapter 3: The Sin Beneath God's Eyes

**Thanks for all the awesome reviews and favorites and such! I love reading them, it makes me warm. And SORRY for the super long chapter! I couldn't stop myself. It reached nearly 10 pages on Word Document lol. I was like sheesh. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this one, cause I sure as hell did.**

**So remember that explicit sex scene I was talking about in Chapter 1? Yeah...this is it. Enjoy!**

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><p>The only light coming in through the church came from the nearly full moon. It was a dark and empty place at night; most of the activities held in here happened in the morning and afternoon. Pieces of moonlight created speckles of different colors as it rayed in through the mosaic artwork in the stained glass windows. Castiel stood within the grand aisle, in between rows of wooden seats and velvet benches. He could practically smell his father here; the worship is so far beyond extreme.<p>

Crowley stood at the altar, positioned behind the pedestal where the priest would teach his lessons. His face was already bruised from his earlier encounter with the angel. Most of the blood is gone, but not his sore loser attitude.

"Come here." Crowley commanded, pointing to the floor in front of him. Castiel could have zapped there, but he chose to walk and linger out the moment. He had to think of something fast.

Castiel stood before him, never taking his eyes off the other man. He was making it hard for Crowley to read any emotion from him.

"Good." Crowley pulled his arm back and swung it ferociously at Castiel, knocking his fist into the side of his temple. It sent the angel crumpling to the floor.

Crowley stood over him and spit at the floor by his shoes. He reached down and grabbed Castiel by the scruff of his shirt, pulling him up, but not all the way. "You shouldn't have ruined my pretty face, love." He made a disapproving 'tsking' noise with his tongue. "That was a stupid move on your part."

With his head tilted down, Castiel sneered up at him with disgust. Crowley had reopened the cut above his eye, which sent a single trail of blood down the side of his face.

"Stay right here." Castiel wasn't moving. With a snap of his fingers, Crowley lit a series of torches around the church. The torches were there already for decoration purposes.

"You see, I can be a romantic kind of guy." He got no response. "Cass. You're so grumpy. I'm just trying to get you in the mood."

"There are other ways." Castiel's voice took on a more emotionless and deeper approach.

"I'm sure there are." He admitted. Castiel looked up at him, staring at him with disbelief. Crowley continued, "But come on, why do you really care? It's just a vessel for you. Humans do this all the time!" He attempted to persuade him, knowing it would be a long shot.

"I can still feel it." His voice rose as it echoed throughout the church. As hard as he tried to hide his fear, he was doing a terrible job. "If you do this, you're robbing from my soul, not Jimmy's." He realized that Crowley didn't know who Jimmy was. "That's who…I'm borrowing this from."

"Ah, your vessel." Crowley walked around Castiel, putting a finger through his soft hair. He liked the thought of hurting Castiel's soul, getting back at any angel is good enough for him, really. Those winged assholes are always abusing their power as God's right hand man. He took a fistful of Castiel's hair and gripped him tight, forcing the angel to his feet. Castiel grimaced but obeyed, feeling as though his scalp could be torn from his skull if he didn't.

Crowley dragged him up the few steps and onto the altar with ease, keeping complete physical and mental control of him. Crowley was always one who demanded respect and dominance; it was just rare for the demon to show it. Here they were, both men beneath God's golden archway. The church glorified him with sculptures of his sons, one of them being pinned a wooden cross. His other sons, however, were the most beautiful pieces in the buildings. Angels flourished and decorated every corner and column; dazzling the people's imagination of how humans thought they were. It sickened him how the humans perceived them as. Angels were truly nothing more than obedient, empty minded soldiers, ready to kill with one command. That's all angels were good for. Obeying and carrying out.

"On your knees." Crowley commanded with a darkened voice, unnecessarily using an intimidating tone. Castiel had to obey no matter how he said it.

And that he did. The angel practically fell to his knees as he dropped them against the crimson carpeted floor. He felt his head spinning with the dreadful anticipation of what Crowley wanted from him. Castiel wasn't exactly an experienced character when it came to 'pleasurable' activities.

"How does it feel, Cass?"

"How does what feel?"

He unbuckled his pants. "To have your daddy watch you suck me off."

* * *

><p>"You're going the speed limit." Sam complained.<p>

"Shut up, there was a cop back there." Once Dean was sure they passed the squad car up, he pressed the pedal to the floor, hiking the MPH bar up drastically. They were in the suburban area, but Dean was a little too experienced with driving his Impala to have to obey the limits.

The Impala stopped in front of a dark, vacant church. Morning masses meant that the churches were usually empty at night, giving the boys the best grounds for hunting.

"You know what you're doing?" Dean asked, although he already knew the answer.

"Yep."

"Alright get going. And keep your phone on you." Dean added quickly before Sam left the car, pushing the door shut. He knew they had to keep their conversation short. They weren't sure how much time they had. The quickest plan they could come up with was to have them both check a church thoroughly.

Dean sped off, the tires momentarily skidding against the ground from the sudden acceleration. He was on his way to the only other church in town; this was their best bets to finding Crowley and Cass.

* * *

><p>Castiel wasn't able to keep still. He was stuck in his current kneeling position despite his efforts to stand and fight or flee. He nearly ripped himself from Crowley's grip, losing a fair amount of hair from his burning, sore scalp. He was much like a wild animal trying to free itself from its owner's grasp. He jerked wildly from Crowley, but he didn't get very far. Crowley didn't need to put much effort into controlling him.<p>

"No." Castiel spoke through gritted teeth, his obvious fear getting the better of him. He was weakened from the war he was leading and the battles he fought; he barely had the strength to kneel.

"Keep your head still. Just hold still, beautiful."

"No." Castiel obeyed where his mind didn't. His body was frozen.

Crowley pulled out his throbbing member, holding it gingerly in-between his fingers. The thought of Cass's gentle lips around his cock excited him, it always has. He was hard simply thinking about it. He fantasized he would be the one to show Castiel the ropes. He wanted to be his mentor; although he had honestly hoped it would be more consensual than this. He dropped the obvious hints, and Cass never took them. He was always too busy playing with his human toys.

"Open your mouth."

There was barely an opening. There was just enough room for Crowley to slip his thumb into his mouth. With his other fingers cupped beneath Cass's chin, he yanked his jaw down, prying open his mouth for his unwelcomed intrusion. Castiel couldn't help but stare, it was clearly the first time he has seen a penis other than his own vessel's.

He wasted no time. He entered his erect member into Castiel's mouth, who had a sudden gag reflex. Castiel fought against the curse, nearly pulling every muscle in both arms as he placed his hands on Crowley's knees to push him away. His arms were too numb to push. He was overwhelmed, his face got hot and red and the veins in his forehead jolted. His eyes shot wide open and his nostrils flared as he struggled to breathe. He doesn't believe this is how humans have sexual intercourse; nor does he believe that Crowley knows what he's doing. This makes absolutely no sense to the angel.

It was the fact that Castiel was forced into suck him off and taste his erected piece of flesh that made it uncomfortable. He felt sick; his stomach was turning in all sorts of complicated knots. He knew this was wrong but literally couldn't say a word. He wanted to grind his teeth, which may have startled Crowley.

"And don't bite, love. Treat me with care." Crowley welcomed the warm moistness that Castiel's mouth kindly gave him. He looked down at Castiel, pulling his hair back so the angel would look back up at him. They made eye contact, and the pleading look in Castiel's eyes urged him to continue harder and faster. The angel was beginning to break; how easy that was. He was sadistic. He loved it.

He thrusted his hips back and forth, his cock ravaging every inch of Castiel's mouth. He could feel the angel trying to gag when he poked at his tonsils, but the curse kept him from doing so, and well, Crowley's hands that were holding onto his hair. Castiel's lips were practically kissing his hips.

Castiel couldn't breathe. His throat was burning and his eyes began to water. He could taste his throbbing cock getting thicker and moist, almost as if it were leaking some sort of liquid. The pre-cum came first, and Castiel swallowed with displeasure. He growled through his frustration, which only offered Crowley a soothing vibration effect.

'Nnh…" Crowley bit his lip, breathing heavily. Beads of sweat were beginning to form around his forehead as he began to climax; his thrusting became almost unbearable for the innocent angel. It was a short ordeal, only lasting a few minutes at best.

When he eventually climaxed, he let Castiel know with a raspy, shaky moan, his teeth grinding hard against each other. His grip on Castiel's hair was tighter, which made the angel shut his eyes tightly as he made a painful face. A single tear leaked from the corner of Castiel's eye, leaving behind a wet trail along his face before it merged with the blood from his cut. Crowley spilled his seed into Castiel's throat, causing the angel to spaz and attempt to escape. He pulled himself out of Castiel's mouth, his enlarged penis bouncing a bit before it rose up. He wasn't done, not yet.

He looked down at his playmate, noticing his cheeks were enlarged. How cute. Castiel hadn't swallowed, he refused. When he finally opened his eyes, he looked up at Crowley, his eyebrows arched high at the ends so they nearly formed a dull 'U' shape.

"Just spit it out." Crowley put his hands out. "But not on me!"

An order Castiel was more than happy to carry out. He turned his head to the side quickly and faced the floor as he spit all of Crowley's milky contents onto the floor, leaving his mouth open as trails of it continued to drip and fall from his lips. He spit again, coughing and gagging the rest out. His hair was messed up, sticking up in every direction from the tugging and pulling. His face was beat red, he knew Crowley was getting a kick out of it. He was an angel of the Lord; and he was humiliated by a demon.

Crowley bent down to fix his angel's hair, and he was rejected immediately. Castiel avoided eye contact with him; he merely put a shaky hand up to keep Crowley away. He continued to spit, adding more to the pile.

"Bloody hell, Cass. It was just a blow job. It's not the end of the world."

"You got what you wanted." His voice was dry and hoarse. His throat was sore and in pain, especially the back where it was poked and prodded over and over again. "Now let me go."

"Not quite."

Castiel shot him a look, the expression on his face said, _'You're fucking kidding me'. _ "I gave you what you wanted. I have nothing left! What more do you want from me?"

"Hate to tell you mate, but your exceptionally amateur blow job wasn't going to give me your innocence." He smirked.

Castiel knew. He may be a little stupid in this field, but he knew what Crowley wanted. And he was going to get it, and there was nothing he could do to stop him.

It was then, when he felt the rush of adrenaline. It poured through his veins like a hit of steroids and energy pills, and then magnified by a hundred. He summoned the energy to stand and fight the curse that Crowley laid upon him- he was able to disobey, which made the deal markings on his arms flash a bright red beneath his sleeve.

Castiel couldn't fight him. Oh no, he wasn't that strong in his current state, but he sure as hell can flee. This gained Crowley's attention, who stood with pride as his erect member still hung out of the zipper pocket.

The angel stood there in a slumped stance, his arms extended at his sides, fingers reached outward. A yellow glow emitted from within him, glistening through the holes of his body- his ears, eyes, nose, etc.

Crowley knew what he was doing. "Stop!" He yelled, but it fell on deaf ears.

He ran up to Castiel and pulled him to the ground with a strong set of muscles, preventing the angel from leaving his vessel. He's seen too many angels escape that way; it was a sure way to avoid being summoned by him.

This interrupted Castiel's spell, and the glow faded into nothing. It simply stopped as he came crashing to the floor over Crowley, the concentration suddenly broken. The two of them fell hard, but the fight wasn't over. Castiel still had adrenaline in his veins.

Castiel yelled through his fury as he tackled Crowley into the priest's pedestal, knocking that and all of the contents on top of it onto the floor. The crash was loud and destructive as a series of unlit candle stands fell with everything. Crowley slid down a couple steps off the altar stage, his clothing wrinkled and tossed around his frame. He's already had a taste of Castiel's strength, so he was careful this time not to push his limits.

"I command you to _stop!_" Crowley held a frightened gaze to Castiel, who was reaching out to pull him up- probably to kick his ass some more. Castiel stopped, freezing in place. Crowley slapped his hand out of his face, pulling himself up to his feet.

He extended his hand out and grabbed Castiel's neck, pushing him backwards. Castiel stepped back as far as he could, his back eventually met with the priest's holy table. There were decorations on there, although they didn't last very long. With one swipe, Crowley knocked everything down: all except for the table cloth.

He pushed Castiel back onto the table so they were facing each other. It was difficult taming Castiel when he's already had a taste of Crowley's seed, and was about to receive more. Castiel couldn't find the strength to fight anymore. He simply gave up, he was completely drained. He fought against Crowley ripping his dusty trench coat off his slim figure, and even fought against him as he was unbuckling his belt. But he gave little effort. Castiel looked up through squinted eyes as his sight rested upon the sculptures and paintings on the arched ceiling, which stood at nearly 4 stories tall.

He was lost.

He felt abandoned.

"Why won't you help me?" He called out to nothing in particular, his voice nearly cracking.

"Are you bloody mental?" Crowley couldn't seem to figure out who he was talking to.

"Why won't you help me?" Castiel repeated, his desperate voice loud enough that his echo must have frightened every living creature in this building.

Crowley looked up to see what he was looking at, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk when he realized Castiel's problem. Poor guy has strong daddy issues.

"God must be busy." Crowley said casually. He flipped Castiel around, pushing the angel's face onto the covered wooden table so that he was bent over it. He didn't need to command him to do anything, Castiel stopped fighting back. With one heave he yanked Castiel's trousers down, just enough to gain access. He spit on his middle and pointer finger, and then inserted both into Castiel's opening at full length. Castiel gripped at air and squirmed beneath Crowley, unable to escape him. He dropped his head onto the table, the wet, sweaty tips of his hair matting onto the table and the side of his face.

"Why won't you help me!"

He called out, this time in anger. He's prayed and screamed for help, for any help from his father. Just this once. He knew he was watching. Watching his son being raped beneath his eyes, yet he does nothing to intervene.

"After all I've done for you! I've done everything you asked! _Everything!_" Self-pity quickly passed through him and was replaced with rage.

"Oh shut up already." Crowley couldn't take any more of his ranting. "Isn't this what you want, Cass? You wanted to be human for a while now, haven't you?" He wiggled his fingers inside.

Cass gripped onto the end of the table. He didn't deny Crowley's accusation. He couldn't. He can't speak.

Crowley took his fingers out and pressed his swollen member up against Castiel's opening. He needed to get this seed out of him. If the angel doesn't loosen up and fix those tense muscles, he's going to make it more painful for himself. Crowley entered his full cock into him and was rewarded by Castiel's strong reaction.

The angel tightened his jaw and shut his eyes, leaning his whole body on the table. He was on the verge of tears; he could feel his pride being ripped out of him with every thrust and pound. Crowley wasn't exactly a gentle man to the virgin, he showed absolutely no mercy. His speed increased as they both became adjusted. He noticed that the faster he went, the tighter Castiel's fists became.

"You're so tight." Crowley didn't complain. Castiel's ass completely hugged his penis with pressure; it gave the demon chills down his spine.

The table shook violently with every grind, every ferocious movement made by the demon. Castiel could practically feel himself being ripped open, and the thought of Crowley inside him brought back the taste in his mouth. It brought back the soreness in his throat.

Crowley leaned in as he grinded against Castiel from behind and whispered to him, "Just pretend I'm Dean. You do love him, don't you?"

No answer. The only noise in the entire room was the intense sound effect of the wet, slippery slosh noise of Crowley's dick constantly reentering his toy. Castiel's eyes were half open, he was on the verge of passing out.

"Answer me. Do you love him?" He was out of breath.

"Yes." Castiel bit his lip as the truth was practically beaten out of him.

"Yes, what?"

No answer.

"Answer me!"

"Yes, I love Dean." His voice was harsh.

"Then pretend I'm Dean." It was a command.

And Castiel closed his eyes and pretended.

But the roughness could not make him enjoy it, as Crowley had hoped. The painful ordeal lasted another long while before Crowley yet again reached his climax, his moaning making Castiel want to throw everything up. The angel closed his eyes and laid upon the table, unaware of the uncomfortable seed that filled him up so much it spilled down his legs, or the blood that was mixed in. He would have just handed over his innocence if it meant he wouldn't have had to go through all that shit again.

"So." Crowley wiped himself off with a nearby priest's robe and zipped himself up, acting as though they just had casual sex. "How does it feel it be de-virginized?"

"Fuck off."

"You're just upset." Crowley walked up to him from behind and reached around to place his hand over his forehead. "You just need some rest. Sweet dreams." With that being said, Castiel became limp, his body fell lifelessly to the floor. The tensed muscles in his face finally relaxed, and he looked as though he might be at peace.

"Hm. Kid wasn't that bad." He shrugged the statement and bent over, hovering his hand over Cass. A pure orb of light came up from the angel's body, making his torso rise from the ground slightly. Once the orb was released from his body, Cass relaxed and fell back against the ground. His body rightfully gave up his innocence and handed it over to his rapist.

Crowley took it with pride as he clenched a fist around it, making the small orb disappear. He had it now, and he plans on using it to his full advantage.

* * *

><p>The sound of a car running through bushes and garbage cans was unmistakably Dean's Impala. It was faint, but the hurried footsteps grew louder. The doors were shaking, as if someone was trying to get in. Silence followed, but that doesn't last long with Dean.<p>

A gunshot blew the locks open and the human kicked the door out with such force, it put a hole in the wall as it swung back.

Crowley knew he was coming. he was seated on the backrest of the bench in the aisle across from Cass, one foot against the floor while the other leg dangled over the side.

He had dressed the sleeping Castiel and set him along the first bench, making it look as though he was merely just taking a nap. Castiel was on his back, his head turned to the side. He looked like a complete mess, not including the blood on his face or his hair that was tangled beyond a brush's help. Crowley may have his differences with Castiel, but he still cares about him. Well, enough to make sure he took care of him after everything he did to him.

"Where is he?" Dean yelled, whipping his gun out the moment his eyes met the demon's. "Where is Cass!" He hadn't noticed him on the bench.

"Sh, you'll wake him up." He pointed his thumb to the angel, ignoring the gun pointed at him. Dean won't shoot him.

Dean gave Crowley a cautious look as he ran around the aisle and approached Castiel, dropping to one knee. He examined his face, not taking his eyes off him.

"What the hell did you do to him?" He looked over his shoulder at Crowley as his fingers gripped the gun so tightly he thought he would accidentally pull the trigger right there.

"Whatever was necessary. Don't worry. He won't remember any of it. I've got his memory with me. But I must say, he was a fiesty little bastard."

The sound of a gunshot rang loudly within the church, the sound was almost deafening.

Crowley wasn't expecting it. Even as he heard the shot go off, he didn't feel it. The smirk was wiped clean off his face as he looked down to see the blood quickly spotting his shirt.

He quickly looked up at Dean and went to approach him, but fled when he saw the man's finger go for the trigger. Crowley was suddenly gone before he could say any smart ass remark; he won't be bothering Cass or the boys for a while. The shot won't kill him, but it'll leave him out of the game for days.

Dean turned his body to face Castiel, who was surprisingly still sleeping. The angel must be in a deeper sleep than he thought. He slid his gun back in the holster and walked up to him.

"Let's get you back home."

He slipped an arm beneath his knees and the crook of his neck, carrying him out bridal style. Cass's head hung over Dean's arm and his arms flailed loosely beneath him. Dean couldn't shake this feeling off his chest that he had failed Castiel when he needed him most. He felt as though he abandoned him. He carried the sleeping angel back to the Impala, hoping whatever Crowley had done to him, he wouldn't remember.

* * *

><p><strong>This may be the ending of the story, I haven't quite decided yet. It fits, but I think I would like to do a reaction shot of Castiel waking up and Dean talking to him. I want to show a bit of Castiel and Dean interaction, since I want their relationship in this story to be more of an admiring Castiel being in love, but not Dean. What do you guys think? One more chapter yes? Maybe? MMMmmmmMMMmmmMmmMMmmmm.<strong>


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